All of these lines across my face tell me the story of who I am. So many stories of where I’ve been and how I’ve got to where I am, but these stories don’t mean anything.
I am not one who has come to be. I was the divine comprehension of the Eternal Creator. I am a minor narrative in His meta-narrative. He has been generous enough to give me a temporary story in His neverending novel. So my story is actually His. I desire to tell it well. This is my blog.